Today marks two months since Terry died. Two months since I have kissed him or held his hand. Two months since everything was so right and my life was so happy and carefree. Two months since my whole world stopped.
They’ve been the most difficult two months that I have ever had to face, but I have faced them. I have gotten out of bed each and every day – sometimes not until dinner, but I have gotten out of bed. Two months of tears – more than I had ever realized that I was capable of producing – but with a variety of shoulders to cry on.
Anniversaries are hard. To make this one more manageable I accepted an invitation to go out for a roast lunch with some good friends. I ordered a drink in Terry’s name and enjoyed a lovely meal and on the two month anniversary of my husband’s death I smiled. Terry always loved my smile, and he did so much to bring it about. I was constantly smiling when we were together; our few short years were the happiest of my life. I hope that I can build a future for myself that involves much more smiling, just like Terry would want.